War and Peace
by starpalimpsest
Summary: The war was won. But the war within themselves was far from really over.


School: Hogwarts

Year: Five

Main Prompt: [Emotion] - Trust

Side Prompt: [Speech] - "I'll do my best, but I don't know how much good it'll do."

Side Prompt: [Object] Old Photograph

Theme: Healing /Injury - PTSD - Daphne becomes close to Harry and she helps him deal with the trauma of both his childhood and the war, by being supportive and listening. She also gives him a little hope to look forward to in his future.

Links: Link to Story three - Mrs Figg. Link briefly mentions story four as well.

Special Rule: Birth/Birthday (Dittany in Flower language means birth.)

Word Count: 3240

War and Peace

Here was the thing, some people just didn't seem to understand, regardless of how much he had tried to explain it all to them. The long-awaited war with the boogeyman of everyone's nightmares was finally over. Harry had waded through all the long days in the fear his peaceful life would once again be disturbed with the memory of a past he didn't wish to remember now—but the never-ending battle within himself was very far from over. It was something which made him doubt very often, if they had really won the war—how can one say they won if the ghosts of the past still haunted him so often after the final act? Or had they just mistakenly thought they had.

To be honest, Harry Potter was simply way too tired to deal with any of those things people seemed to expect of him. Like, they magically expected him and those who had fought with him during the war, to be magically fine with every little thing they'd gone through during the entire nightmare. Like, it was completely ordinary to wake up in the middle of the night expecting the monster of his nightmares to still be alive enough to continue haunting him.

Sometimes, Harry Potter thought he would've been better off if he had actually died that day back there in the Forbidden Forest. But of course, it was a selfish thought—one he shouldn't even be entertaining because if he had died that day, they wouldn't have won the bloody war and they would still be suffering every day at the Death Eater's hands.

Apparently, when one was the chosen one—at the cost of everyone he had loved and cared for—one didn't get to be selfish.

"Harry, you coming to Hogwarts with me?" Hermione Granger asked with a faint little smile across her face as she sat comfortably on top of the cold, wooden floor of the Burrow. She didn't particularly seem like she was dealing with her own demons any better than he was, if the black circles under her eyes were any indication. "I know that Ronald isn't—he wishes to work at George's shop as you know, of course, but I was wondering if you were considering going back. I fear it would be really awkward for me if I were to go back to Hogwarts all by myself."

Those things didn't seem to mean anything significantly important to Harry any longer. But he nodded his head, anyway. "Of course," he said. "I do have to get my N.E.W.T exams."

* * *

There was something very odd about being back at Hogwarts after everything that had happened there the year prior. Maybe it was the way his mind would flash back to the death eaters that had filled the Great Hall every time he entered the room for an early breakfast. Maybe it was the way his chest ached every time he remembered Fred running through those same school hallways he was currently walking with Hermione by his side, talking about something or other that he didn't really pay enough attention to actually listen to. Or maybe it was the feeling he would get every time he glanced at Malfoy and his group of friends.

Pansy Parkinson seemed to have dropped all of her expensive layers and even her blunt, and sometimes rude words. Draco Malfoy mostly seemed to keep to himself now after everything that had happened to him during the war. Theodore Nott mostly paid attention to his academic studies, and didn't seem to care about anything else. Blaise Zabini no longer walked throughout the whole school as if he thought everyone should bow down to him just because the pureblood society thought him to be worthy of respect due to his pureblood heritage. And of course, Daphne Greengrass who only seemed to know how to follow her little sister around like she was afraid if she wasn't there to watch out for her, Astoria would drop dead in the middle of the broad daylight just like that. It was a possibility that all of them were very much afraid after the war, of the chance they could lose another loved one.

Harry had a secret hiding place. Though, now that he really thought about it, it wasn't really a hiding place per se. Just a place where he could finally feel like himself once again after months of hardship and trouble. Somebody else was at his secret place right now. Harry didn't particularly know how to feel about that. In all the time he had been at Hogwarts, nobody had bothered him when he was by the lake. Now, Daphne Greengrass was sitting with her long legs entangled closely together as she kept her blue eyes focused on the stillness of the lake before her.

It was quite an enchanting sight to behold, Harry would begrudgingly admit.

Harry didn't quite know what had possessed him to do so, but he suddenly found himself sitting beside her by the lake, one leg crouching on the ground.

"Potter." Her tone wasn't pleasant in the slightest. In fact, she sounded as if she was actually considering murdering him for having disturbed her peace.

Harry forced himself to smile. "Greengrass." Unlike hers, his tone didn't reek of a poison. Only of false pleasantness. He didn't know if that was a good thing. "Fancy seeing you here."

Greengrass, it seemed, didn't seem to share his opinion, for, she suddenly stood up on her feet and stalked away without a word, her fancy blond hair swinging along with her every move. Harry watched her leave with a somewhat amused feeling deep in his chest.

* * *

The second time it had happened, Greengrass seemed to have decided she didn't wish to give up her spot by the lake for the second time that week. Instead, she tried to make him leave. But little did she know just how stubborn he was.

"Ugh!" She dramatically waved her hands around herself in a deep frustration. "I should have known the boy who was too stubborn to die would be stubborn in all other ways too." She gritted her teeth hard, glaring at him through icy-blue eyes. "Why don't you just leave? I don't like sharing my things with the others."

"It's school property, Greengrass." He reminded her. "Therefore, it's for everyone's use."

She looked as if she might hex him just for the sake of it all. She seemed to have thought better of it, though, for she only frowned and crossed her arms across her chest, moving as far away from him as possible.

They didn't speak another word for the rest of the day.

* * *

The third time they crossed paths, it had been a rather unfortunate day for him. He was in no mood for their daily banter. Or for company, for that matter.

But as always, Greengrass merely frowned at him deeply as if she was actually offended he even dared to think she would be so easy to shoo away like she was some annoying pest, and stood stubbornly on her feet with her arms dramatically crossed across her chest.

It wasn't before long that Greengrass let out one final irritated sounding grunt under her breath and turned on her feet, glaring at him in a mere annoyance at having disturbed her much-treasured peace. "What's wrong with you today?"

"I had nightmares." Usually, nightmares weren't that out of the ordinary. But this one was quite special in the way it made him feel like clawing his eyes out just so he would no longer be able to see the dead looks in his parents' eyes as they laid lifeless on the ground before him; a source of amusement to the man—no, creature that had completely destroyed and shattered his life since he was a little boy, and continued to do so even after he was gone.

Harry remembered Cedric Diggory very well; the older boy who had tragically lost his life because someone had orchestrated for Harry to die. It was only due to pure luck — he didn't feel so lucky, however — that it had been Cedric to die.

Harry remembered Fred laying on the ground as his family surrounded him like a pack of wolves there to mourn their own, remembered the feeling of guilt that settled within his chest. After that, when he had seen Remus and Tonks laying lifelessly on the ground, hand in hand, he had felt quite like somebody had sucked the life out of him. He suddenly thought of the little boy they left behind for him to raise, little Edward Lupin he imagined he loved as much as he would come to love a son of his own one day.

The war may have been won, but it was at a great price. Sometimes, it didn't even feel like it had been quite over. Sometimes, it felt like it was still continuing through series of nightmares and memories that brought back his guilt deeper than before.

"Potter, I don't think — you are not breathing!" Suddenly, Greengrass was on the alert, blinking her blue eyes quite warily at him. "Come on, breathe. Slow and deep. Breathe."

But he couldn't.

It was too hard.

"Potter, come on. Everything may seem dim and brisk right now, but think of what you still have. Think of your godson."

Teddy.

He finally breathed.

He closed his eyes shut one last time before turning his head to gaze at Greengrass, ever so thankful. "Thank you."

Greengrass simply waved her hand off, like it was an insignificant matter. "Don't mention it." But he thought for a moment, there was a flash of a smile on her lips. "I mean it, Potter. Don't mention it."

Harry merely grinned at her quite boyishly, feeling at peace for the first time since the war had ended.

After that, things between them started to gradually change. They weren't quite friends yet, but she no longer looked at him as if she was planning his murder in her head. It was a welcome change, to say the least.

"I was six-years-old when I met Draco. It was during a yearly Yule Ball. Ever since then, he had been my closest friend." There was a soft edge to her voice like it was as treasured a memory to her as the first time meeting Ron and Hermione were to him.

"When I was a six-year-old, I was living in a cupboard under the stairs."

Greengrass put a somewhat awkward, reassuring arm on his shoulder, "Yeah, Potter. I know. It was in the papers a while ago." Honestly, he didn't know how that particular story got out to the press. Knowing them, though, probably not in the most innocent way possible. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't have such a fairytale childhood either. My parents were—are assholes."

Harry simply blinked his eyes at her. "It doesn't."

Greengrass chuckled lightly in the response, "Well, I am just saying, you are not alone."

* * *

The next time they'd met, surprisingly, they didn't meet by the lake. In fact, he'd seen her when he was innocently walking his way to the dormitories. Greengrass, however, didn't seem so innocent. To put it bluntly, it looked as if she was stalking someone.

"Shut the fuck up and get down before they see us, Potter!" She dragged him down to the ground to his knees, and Harry groaned under his breath, glaring at her in pure frustration at having been forced into this rather unfortunate situation.

"What are you even doing anyway, Greengrass? Is any of what you are doing even legal? Correct me if I am wrong, but it's against the law to follow someone without their permission."

Greengrass merely waved her hand away as if it wasn't an important matter. "It's not illegal to stalk your sister," He was pretty sure that it was. "I am doing this for her own good. She doesn't know just with whom she's getting herself involved with here." Then she added a little too curtly. "Not that there's anything wrong with Draco, of course. He's a pretty chill guy when he's not far too busy playing the part of a spoiled asshole with wealthy parents. But he cannot date my sister! He's one of my best friends. That's so wrong."

"And the actual reason you're against this relationship is—?"

"Look, whether you know this or not, his family's reputation is basically ruined. And I love him, I really do, but I cannot let my sister jeopardize her own future like that."

"Daphne?" Called a vaguely familiar voice and they both turned to face the pair she'd been trying to stalk—not him, of course. He was merely an unwilling participant. "Are you

me?" Astoria Greengrass let out a deep sigh in disbelief, her arms resting on top of her hips. "I cannot even believe you. You can't even trust me?"

Daphne Greengrass jumped to her feet sharply. "Of course, I trust you." She glared furiously at the blonde then, to which Malfoy merely rolled his eyes. "It's him I don't trust." She then gave one sharp look at her best friend. "Don't be offended, though. It's nothing personal."

Malfoy looked more offended at the fact that she actually thought she could possibly offend him. "Sweetheart, it takes more than that to offend me, believe me."

Greengrass—Daphne merely rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, "Stuff it, Malfoy." She then glanced at her sister pleadingly, "Astoria, you really have to understand, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if your reputation had been ruined just because you foolishly decided to join families with this asshole here." Now, Malfoy seemed merely amused by her whole behavior.

"Daphne, I love Draco." Malfoy went still at the word, gray eyes widening in surprise. "I am in love with him. And if having my reputation ruined is what I would have to sacrifice in order to be with him, then, I would gladly do it."

Daphne glared at her with a miserable look in her eyes. "But—"

"I know you're only trying to do what you think is the best for me, but let me make my own choice for once. Stop protecting me. Have your own life. Daphne, you may not realize this, but you are not responsible for my happiness. Only I am."

Beside him, Malfoy asked. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"A pure accident, believe me." He didn't look like he did, however. Malfoy then deigned to follow after Astoria when she stalked away, leaving her sister with tears silently falling down her face.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Daphne didn't bother to lift her head to look at him, "I don't know."

"Would you murder me if I try to hug you?"

After a long silence, she finally said, "No." Then she was throwing her arms around him, crying on his shoulder and he was hugging her back tightly, whispering things he wasn't even certain he believed.

* * *

"Distract me." It was the first thing Daphne Greengrass told him when they sat for a small talk after their classes had ended for the day. "I feel like I am going to go out there looking for Tori unless I am properly distracted."

Harry merely glanced at her somewhat sheepishly, "I'll do my best, but I am not sure how much good it'll do." And then, he proceeded to tell her a story about his time spent with his relatives at their muggle house. About the birthday parties he never had, and Arabella Figg who he would always be grateful for teaching him how to survive in that dreadful house.

She had always been quite nice to him even when nobody else was in his life in that dreadful muggle house he was forced to live in with his relatives, to only seldomly have a birthday of his own because, as his aunt had so tactfully told him at the young age, freaks didn't have birthdays. Arabella Figg, however, taught him more than just how to survive with his muggle relatives looking for a reason to punish him, watching his every move. She taught him what it felt like to be truly loved. And he would always be quite grateful to her for that.

He remembered the birthday that had changed everything to him, remembered meeting Hagrid for the very first time very well. It had been quite a magical day for him, and not one he was likely to forget anytime soon. For, he had met one of his most loyal friends that day. To this day, he was still honored to call Hagrid his friend and a family.

Probably not what she had in mind, though.

"Potter, I've told you to distract me. Not try to make me cry with your bitter childhood story." And then her blue eyes twinkled mischievously and before he even knew how, her arms were around his own shoulders and her mouth—her delicious, wicked mouth—on his own, and before he could even register what had happened, she was gone.

* * *

Harry Potter had never been a huge fan of birthday parties. Mostly because he never had one when he was a small child. But even after he started having them, he found he didn't quite like them. They reminded him far too much of all the times he had spent in the room under the stairs.

Harry gazed at the old family photograph he held in his hand and smiled, gazing at the familiar faces visible through the balcony. However, he pocketed it habitually when he heard footsteps approaching him.

"Potter aren't you supposed to be at your birthday party?" There were high heels clicking against the floor, approaching slowly with each step.

He didn't have to turn around to know who that was. "And aren't you supposed to be avoiding me?"

Daphne sighed deeply under her throat as she stopped beside him by the balcony of Grimmauld Place. "I know I've been acting foolish lately. I shouldn't have avoided you when I had been the one that decided to kiss you. I should've been brave." She waved her hands, pointedly beside herself. "But being brave isn't really my forte."

He gazed down at her from across the balcony, but when he opened his mouth to speak, she merely shushed him with her finger. "I'm used to being ambitious, and having to be cunning. I'm used to having to protect my sister because my parents wouldn't. But now, I have to discover a way to live—to really live without my sister there to help me out. And I don't know how to get on with that. So, maybe—just maybe, would you be willing to help me out? As I would be to help you mend the scars that lay underneath?"

Harry Potter had met a lot of women in his life before. They were all different in so many wonderful ways. But Daphne Greengrass wasn't like any he had met. "I would be honored to do so."

Then she was kissing him, and it felt like the greatest birthday present ever. "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter." She said. "Would you perhaps, consider dating me as well."

Harry touched the soft edge of her blond hair and grinned at her quite happily, "Daphne, I would love to be your boyfriend."


End file.
